


Most Likely To Succeed

by aunt_zelda



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Bank Robbery, F/M, Kissing, Light Bondage, Nostalgia, Post-Canon, Supervillains, Vines, Worldbuilding, Yuletide Madness, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8996863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: Warren frowns at the news as he readies the store for the morning rush. A new villain is in town, robbing banks and harassing politicians. She seems to have some superpowers, though her specifics are masked by a variety of effects. It’s nature-based, but that could mean a lot of things. Something about the shade of green on the costume, the posture, catches Warren’s eye.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



> Yuletide treat written for fenellaevangela.
> 
> Read your letter and wanted to write you something. Future supervillain Layla has had a special place in my heart ever since I read a Yuletide fic a few years back. And this movie has had a special place in my heart since I was very young. 
> 
> Hope you like this little fic.

Warren is at Layla’s graduation. He’s there for all of his younger friends. Sky High seems strangely small, after a year away at college. Warren finds himself wandering the halls and idly touching lockers and walls, remembering the years he spent there. He misses how simple things used to be. He doesn’t miss the anger though. 

It took a while, and actually participating in the therapy his mom had been sending him to, but Warren’s finally let go of the anger. It doesn’t control him any more, at least. Sometimes it flares up, like a bad case of acne, but Warren is always able to stomp it back down again. 

Warren cheers and claps when Layla takes her diploma. He feels a twinge in his stomach when she kisses Will. That’s always smarted a bit, no getting around it. Layla used him to get at Will, but Warren’s made his peace with it. Layla was a naïve kid who didn’t know any better, trying her best to make the oblivious Stronghold notice her. And her plan did work, in the end. 

Musing on that, Warren frowns, before shaking the thought off and going to find his friends. He’s taking them all out to dinner, laden with a fancy new paycheck from his grown-up job.

~*~

Warren frowns at the news as he readies the store for the morning rush. A new villain is in town, robbing banks and harassing politicians. She seems to have some superpowers, though her specifics are masked by a variety of effects. It’s nature-based, but that could mean a lot of things. 

Something about the shade of green on the costume, the posture, catches Warren’s eye. 

When the villain’s manifesto is read on air, Warren almost drops his morning coffee. He spent years at Sky High proofing Layla’s essays. He knows her syntax, her phrasing. 

Warren wonders what he’s supposed to do. Call the police? Call Will, maybe? Call Layla and … what, exactly? Tell her to stop? Congratulate her?

A nasty voice at the back of his mind, that Warren associates with his father, suggests that Warren should try to team up with Layla.

Warren stomps it down and opens the store. 

~*~

“Everybody on the ground!”

Warren sighs heavily. Figures. He was just at the front of the line in the bank, and now there’s a hold up. He just wanted to cash his paycheck.

The other customers are seemingly used to this sort of thing, getting down with mild grumblings. Warren sees the tellers already filling bags with money, prepared for a supervillain attack.

“You too, pretty boy!” one of the minions shoves Warren in the back. 

Warren glares, and unconsciously his hand lights up. “Watch it,” he growls, before crouching down on the floor. 

“Leave the civvies alone, minion!” the supervillain strides forward, all green silk and shiny fake leather. “It’s the money we’re here for!” 

This close, Warren can see her eyes, and hear her real voice under the modulator. There’s no denying it any longer: that’s Layla. 

“Sky High, right?” he calls out to her, hooking his hands behind his head.

She turns and sees him, really sees him, and nearly loses her composure. Layla’s good though, and stands tall, glaring down at him like he’s utterly beneath her notice. It’s honestly kinda hot, as far as Warren’s concerned. 

“Yes. One of their many graduates,” Layla sneers. “Good luck uncovering my identity. There’s thousands of students who’ve been through that school.”

“True. Just a lucky guess,” Warren winks.

The skin visible around Layla’s mask turns red briefly. 

“Minions, move out!” Layla barks, striding out of the bank. 

~*~

Layla tracks him down a week later. She’s waiting for Warren in his apartment, arms crossed, not wearing the supervillain costume. Ratty jeans, a ‘Save the Earth’ t-shirt, and a whole lot of fancy arm tattoos of vines and thorns and flowers are Layla’s new style. She still twists her hair in those silly anime-inspired knots, which is gratifying to Warren, a nostalgic touch he’s glad she’s hung onto all these years later. 

“How did you know?” she asks. 

“I proofed your essays in high school. That manifesto sounded like you. And your posture.”

Layla shifts from foot to foot.

“I don’t think anyone else has figured it out yet. Nobody’s called me.”

“Good.” Layla frowns. “You’re not my nemesis, are you, Warren?”

“God no,” Warren shakes his head. “All that hero and villain stuff? I don’t want it. It’s not for me.”

“You’re so powerful, though!” Layla gasps. “What … do you just not use your powers? Ever?”

Warren gestures to his work outfit. “I bake artisanal bread. Gotta hit just the right temperatures for that. Precise. I’m getting into pastry too, in school.” He wonders when Layla left school. He wonders whether she has a college degree, or if she dropped out before she could earn one. 

“That’s so … huh.” Layla seems to deflate. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Warren hangs up his apron. “You’re not here to kidnap me, are you?”

Layla’s eyes light up. “I could! Oooh, that’d be really fun! I kidnapped Magenta last month; it was awesome! She called me a ‘dastardly fiend’ and said I’d never get away with my plans. We had to keep cutting out the feed because we kept cracking up.”

Warren smiles thinly. “Well, that sounds nice, but I’d really rather not. I have an early shift and I was hoping to get a nap in before my classes tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” Layla puts a burner phone down on the counter. “I’m trusting you with this, ok? You need help, or wanna get involved in what I do … you call me, ok?”

Warren nods. “Stay safe out there. Not all heroes are nice about bringing villains to the cops.”

“They’ll never catch me.” Layla grins. 

Before Warren can blink, Layla lunges forward, pinning him against the apartment door. Vines twine around his body, holding him tightly in place. 

“I gotta steal _something_ before I go.” Layla explains. Then she darts in for a quick kiss. 

Warren, blaming nostalgia and Layla’s hair buns and his long-standing crush on the goofy girl he met during his sophomore year, kisses her back.

“Call me, any time.” Layla says, before releasing him and making her escape out through the window. 

Warren rubs his jaw and wonders if he should.


End file.
